


Geoffrey I

by blueteak



Category: The Lion in Winter (1968)
Genre: M/M, Philip Considers Plantagenets, Plotting, Power Dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-19
Updated: 2014-12-19
Packaged: 2018-03-02 03:49:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2798471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueteak/pseuds/blueteak
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Philip contemplates Geoffrey's reign</p>
            </blockquote>





	Geoffrey I

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Shayheyred](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shayheyred/gifts).



Philip, fresh from having bedded Geoffrey over a table that held mock battle layouts, did not disagree with Henry and Eleanor the first time he heard them refer to their son as more device than man. Even while in a position to swear that Geoffrey was made of flesh rather than gears and cogs, Philip had sensed Geoffrey’s mind at work attempting to calculate not only how Philip would respond to his touch, but also gauging what each act meant--and could mean later.

Would his having orally pleasured Philip earlier result in 1500 men in a battle against Henry? Would Philip give him the same amount of men against Richard? And, if not, could he use the fact that he had gone down on his knees in something other than fealty (though he had done that for Brittany, and beautifully), to publically embarrass Philip, preferably in front of the Pope and/or Richard? The questions Philip had about what precisely Geoffrey wanted from him and how and when their arrangement would end were, however, part of the thrill. Everything was a contest with them, from chess to tilting to the bedroom. And France, of course. Curiously, all of these contests, including those concerning France, had thus far seemed nothing more than games. And both Philip and Geoffrey were accustomed to, if not entirely accepting of, the fact that victory in one arena could be followed by defeat in another. The real question was whether everything, including France, would remain a game between them, or whether the contest must ultimately end in conquest.

Indeed, Philip had found himself wondering whether the mock battle that had been laid out in front of them was one Geoffrey expected to fight with him. Brittany looked to be heavily fortified even though Geoffrey had promised he would give Philip all of England’s land in France in exchange for his support for Geoffrey's claim to the English crown.

Then again, that entire family had different definitions of what counted as “England’s.” To Richard, England’s lands in France included Normandy, Anjou, the Aquitaine, the Vexin, Nantes, and Maine. To Henry, England’s lands in France were Normandy, Anjou, Maine, the Aquitaine, Nantes, the Vexin, and likely also Burgundy and Paris. Though Geoffrey may have promised Philip all of England’s lands in France, he very possibly could have meant only Maine, and that was only if he'd honestly meant to turn over any land in the first place. After all, no kings tracing their line from William the Bastard would give up Normandy. And Geoffrey’s grandsire, another Geoffrey, had controlled Anjou. As for the rest? Geoffrey wouldn't even bother to feign confusion when Philip confronted him. Philip could just see Geoffrey’s lip quirk as he explained that the Aquitaine was Richard’s, not England’s, just as Brittany was his and had nothing to do with that land mass he governed across the channel.

Of course the fiend was aware that Philip would have taken his promise to mean all the lands connected to his family. In exchange for the crown, Philip expected every single lion standard to be removed from France. He did not yet know precisely what his response would be when Geoffrey betrayed that promise, but Geoffrey was always prepared for the worst. Geoffrey would therefore be battle-ready at any time, even if his deceit happened to be discovered (officially, at least) in bed. The way things were going between them, it very well could be. For that reason, Philip had half expected Geoffrey to reach out mid-coitus and move soldiers into different positions. Thinking of his future betrayal had made Philip thrust just that much harder.

At the time, Philip had also thought being slightly more forceful might provoke an extended period of unguarded response from Geoffrey, something more than a head thrown back and a long sigh. It had not. Philip had quickly moved in to press a kiss that ended in a soft nip to Geoffrey's exposed throat. He'd expected to be urged on or wrestled with after that. However, as quickly as Geoffrey had bared his throat for Philip’s kiss, he’d shrugged him off again, curling into himself.

So, yes, Philip had agreed with Henry and Eleanor: Geoffrey was a device. But given the strength of the battle layouts he’d seen, Philip hoped he could contain the device, first to repel a Henry who claimed to love peace while his actions (or lack thereof, at least concerning the Vexin) demanded war, and secondly to keep the tension between them sexually charged rather than allowing it to evolve into a full-blown war between kings who were also lovers. After all, sex with Geoffrey was good, even if it was guarded. Philip would be reluctant to let Geoffrey go, and not solely because he wanted to learn what made the device work.

Philip’s plan, at least with respect to keeping Geoffrey on side against Henry, seemed to be working. Geoffrey’s mind was still more wrapped up in itself than in unrestrained passion in bed, but at least he was in bed with Philip in all senses of the word. And while the possibility of rubbing Henry’s nose in the dirty bedsheets of all of Philip's dealings with Henry's sons made his blood sing, it was Geoffrey that Philip preferred over Richard. Or, God forbid, John.

Geoffrey was flexible in a variety of ways, all of which, even the moral flexibility, were somehow compelling. Yes, he’d likely sell everybody to everyone. However, that also meant that he wouldn’t decimate most opponents, but would always leave them believing they could or should come to terms. Philip preferred Geoffrey’s practically straightforward slipperiness to Richard’s unbending declarations of both love and strategy. There was no mystery. Richard loved him. Richard wanted the throne, the Aquitaine, and Alys. Richard would use him to get these things. If he got in the way, Richard would crush him. He might very well weep while doing so, but he would do it. There was no question. And John….John was far too malleable. It would be like taking a kingdom from a baby.

Geoffrey, though….even if it came to war between them, Philip could see Geoffrey riding in under a truce flag for a game of chess and time in bed with Philip. And what was more, despite having vowed to never show weakness to Henry or his heirs in the way his father had to his enemies, Philip could see himself letting him.

Philip was surprised by how unsurprised he was that he still wanted Geoffrey even after Geoffrey and Henry came to terms. How much he still wanted Geoffrey, and would continue to want him even if Geoffrey and his father never fought again. That, of course, was unlikely, and Philip had long known that Geoffrey’s allegiances, like a cat settling in for a nap, shifted many times before settling down. But it wasn’t merely the knowledge that he and Geoffrey were likely to be tangled together ‘til death did them part, no matter which alliances or lands divided them, that decided Philip.

It was an exchange between Henry and Henry’s boys that made one of his own mental gears click into place. A day or so after the conclusion of (yet another) truce at Gisors, Henry celebrated with his sons, one hand on John while he bellowed (affectionately, now), at Richard. Geoffrey stood between Henry and Richard. Just as Geoffrey was about to speak, Henry clapped John on the arm in farewell and shouted a “see you on the field—the practice field!” to Richard. It was as though Geoffrey were a ghost, but not the angry, interjecting kind. He acted as though he had never intended to say anything and proceeded to help John decide his (shouted, of course) question of whether or not he should retain William Marshal in a position of power during his reign.

Geoffrey's family actually did not see him unless he was waving a sword in their faces or helping them plot. He still reached out to them, but immediately pulled back when it became clear that he was going to be rebuffed. He orchestrated everything from affairs to battles from a distance, wanting to be engaged but fearing rebuff.

Well. The challenge is dead, long live the challenge, thought Philip. He may have discovered something of Geoffrey’s motivations, but he was now intrigued by the possibility of breaking down some of Geoffrey’s walls.

Philip didn’t even need to dispatch a messenger with a coded letter offering to meet Geoffrey by the tall tree at midnight after that (Geoffrey would know that whichever outlandish code Philip used, the message meant meeting in his private chambers). Geoffrey found Philip after the evening meal and challenged him to a game of chess later in the evening while at the same time inviting himself into Philip’s bed, making insinuations about “taking kings” in a low voice.

Philip raised a brow and leaned in closer to Geoffrey. “Well, I look forward to taking you, then, since you still want me to make you the next king of England, I’m sure.”

Geoffrey smiled in a way that suggested they’d see about that, but that he wasn’t about to discuss sodomy even more openly in the Great Hall. He then gave Philip an ironic bow and left, most likely to plot something.

Philip would have been overjoyed to discover that his plan to gentle Geoffrey, or at least render him less aware of himself and afraid of rejection, had succeeded at first try, but it was not to be. Philip lost at chess, as it happened, but he had nevertheless taken control in bed, nipping along Geoffrey's jawline after kissing him breathless. And then, more daringly, continuing to gently bite his way down Geoffrey's throat on the way to another part of Geoffrey's anatomy.

Geoffrey tensed, and Philip feared a replay of the curling-in response from the last time he'd tried biting Geoffrey's throat. And then Philip had artfully employed his tongue while keeping a firm, yet loose, hold on Geoffrey, and Geoffrey had acquiesced, even closing his eyes.

The struggle did not end there, though. Geoffrey locked eyes with Philip when Philip touched his scars, running a fingertip over a long-healed would on his thigh, and then turning his attention to an injury so jagged it looked as though someone had tried to write on Geoffrey with the point of a sword.

Philip held Geoffrey’s gaze calmly and kept tracing the scars, refusing to back off but also indicating that he was willing to listen if Geoffrey told him to stop. He didn’t. After a few minutes, he had closed his eyes again, and only his body responded.  
Geoffrey’s muscles were still tense when other mens’ would have been liquid, but Philip had made some headway. For one thing, Geoffrey remained in bed with him after they’d finished.

Before falling asleep, Philip drowsily asked a question that could have undone his progress. “What would your reign look like, Geoffrey?”

Geoffrey opened his eyes groggily and sighed, “Is this about the Vexin?” while groping around for his clothing. He clearly thought a battle of one sort or another was coming, and clothes would be welcome even it was only to be a battle of words.

Philip put a restraining hand on Geoffrey’s shoulder. “While I do wonder what you would do if, say, the king of France took the Vexin, I’m asking about what your court would look like. You and John were talking about William Marshall earlier. Would you retain him? Would you travel the country hearing complaints and dispensing justice, like Henry?”

Geoffrey squinted at him, his usually immaculate hair sticking out in all directions. “The short answer: You can have the Vexin because I can’t even pretend to want Alys. Traveling the countryside: yes, if you and the Welsh and the Scots let me. William Marshal: yes, though he clearly doesn’t trust me, for some reason. The rest we can talk about in the morning.”

The light from the fire illuminated Philip’s smile. “Yes, we can,” he said, giving in to temptation and passing his hand through Geoffrey’s tangled hair.

The light of the fire made the glint of Geoffrey’s glare at having his hair further disturbed look more fearsome, but Philip didn’t fear reprisal.

Philip got Geoffrey to lie back down, and they started to fall asleep to the fire's crackling. On the edge of sleep, he heard Geoffrey’s low “You sound as though you think I will be king.”

"Yes," Philip said. "And I’m sure there will be plenty of peace treaties in our future.”


End file.
